


Crown Princess

by ohmyfae



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Ardyn and Gentiana are Luna's fairy godparents, Cinderella AU, F/M, Minor character death in first chapter, the daemons are faeries
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-02-04 10:01:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18602257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmyfae/pseuds/ohmyfae
Summary: A Cinderella AU!Lunafreya Nox Fleuret enters the forest of Elfland to undertake her first trial as crown princess. When she returns, she finds the empire waiting for her. Forced to serve the emperor's every wish as his 'adopted daughter,' Luna secretly plots her escape, only to discover, years down the line, that an old friend is holding a ball...





	1. Chapter 1

The Royal Gallery of Lucis held its grand re-opening on a sunny day in the early spring, just in time for the schools to come back from holiday. Teachers marched lines of bored, jittery children down the dark halls, where students gathered in unruly clumps, whispering and giggling at the naked statues at the entrance. Guides called out from the themed exhibits, footsteps echoed further in, and guards warily stepped forward every thirty seconds or so to explain, in increasingly terse voices, that no, no one was allowed to touch the statue of Ifrit, thank you very much.

In the center of it all, a man sat on a small bench, hands clasped between his knees. He looked more like the subject of a painting than an admirer of one, with a face that made onlookers blink and frown, too young and too old all at once. He was dressed in an old-fashioned ruffled shirt with wide, flowing sleeves, his boots shone with polish, and his trousers were lined with a print of gold roses, giving him the effect of a man who had dressed in the dark.

"A lovely rendition," he said. "They almost got it right this time."

Cloth rustled as a woman in a black lace dress sank onto the bench next to him. She had the same ageless air as her companion, though those who passed her didn't look at her long enough to wonder why. Their gazes slid past her, skittering from her diamond brooch to the wall behind her head, and the few who did force themselves to linger fled the gallery in silence. She lay a gloved hand over her companion's, and he sighed.

"It seems you've settled down at last," she said.

"Ah, well." The man shifted, and he took her hand, fingers lacing with hers. "It's nice enough. A little gaudy for my tastes..."

"Never," the woman said. He smiled. "How is she? Our princess?"

As one, they turned to the painting. It was a large oil painting on a wooden canvas, featuring a woman descending from a carriage made of ice. Her dress was white and soft as the clouds that framed the moon above her, and her blue cloak was flecked with starlight as she sank to earth.

"Oh, I wouldn't call her ours," the man said.

They sat there a moment, gazing at the painting, tracing the delicate brushwork of light on a pair of small glass slippers.

"I remember a young man," the woman said, in a dreamy voice. "Beautiful and cunning, and a terrible liar. I knew I couldn't keep him, so when he came to me, I asked him--"

"Tell me a story," the man said, in a hushed voice.

"Yes." She squeezed his hand. "Tell me a story."

"Very well, my dear. But just the one."

 

\---

 

"Do you _have_ to go?"

Lunafreya Nox Fleuret, the youngest child of Queen Sylva and heir to the Tenebraean throne, turned from her vanity mirror and smiled at her newest friend. Noctis Lucis Caelum was small for his age, dark-haired and blue-eyed like his mother, and he sat on the edge of Luna's bed with his legs dangling next to the handle of his wheelchair. In the morning, Luna would have to meet him in his guest room, as her things were due to be moved to the Tower of Queens, where crown princesses lived since the dawn of the world. The tower was many things--Beautiful, breathtaking, daunting--but accessible it certainly was not. 

"Every princess of Tenebrae has to do this, Noct," she said, tying off her thick braid. There were sylleblossoms woven in her hair for luck, and little silver bells hung from her hair tie. "It's tradition."

Noctis frowned, looking down at his feet. "We don't get the good kind of faeries where I'm from," he said.

Luna tried not to grimace. The elves that lived in the forests surrounding the Tenebraean royal manor weren't good, exactly. They were just... Comfortable. The elves and the Queens of Tenebrae had an alliance that lasted centuries, staving off the daemons of the night court and ensuring that so long as no hunters stepped past the line of elms in the woods, no children would be stolen from their beds in the night. It worked, and part of that was dependent on what Luna had to do that evening. Like every crown princess before her, she would have to walk past the elms and into Elfland itself, and make a deal with the elven queen.

For Noctis, who only knew the folk as slavering daemons that attacked in the night, it must have been a terrifying prospect.

"I'll be perfectly safe," Luna said. It wasn't true, but Noct needed to hear it. "And we call them elves. Fairy is rude."

"I was learning the sword before I got hurt," Noct said. "If I come with you--"

Luna plopped down on the duvet next to him. Over his shoulder, the sun was just starting to set behind the trees, melting into a violet twilight. "I promise, Noctis," she said, taking both his hands in hers. "On my crown. I'll be back before dawn."

 

The woods were quieter than Luna expected. The entire manor clustered by the edge of the forest, deepening the shadows with what looked like half the region trying to jump up and peer over their heads at the young princess in her thick white nightgown and sensible boots. She stood next to Ravus, who shifted on his feet as though he would embrace her if it weren't utterly mortifying, and shook out her arms.

Behind her, Noctis twisted the hem of his shirt in his hands, watching her. She waved, and half the crowd waved back. Noct's hand only twitched.

"Mother?" she asked. Her mother, crowned with ice and silver, slowly inclined her head.

Luna took off running. The underbrush was soft under her boots, thick with fat ferns that parted before her, and the line of elms in the distance was dark against the starlit sky. She kept a straight line for them, her breath coming ragged and shallow, a strange wetness in her lungs like the bite of a winter breeze. _Don't stop,_ she thought, remembering her mother's advice, the words of her ancestors. _Don't stop for anyone but the queen._

She barreled through the gap between two elms, and stumbled in the glare of a sudden and glorious sunrise. The woods around her were bathed in a golden glow, and even the ferns were tinged with the light of a sun too large to be real, flickering like a reflection in a pond. Luna kept going, trotting through the ferns as little lights rose from her feet, spiraling around her.

"It's the princess," someone said, and Luna saw an elf unfold from the grass, dark-eyed and achingly beautiful, with a strong arched nose and an infectious smile. He held out his hand. "Will you sit with me? My family would love to take you in, poor motherless thing."

"I have a mother," Luna said. The elf shrugged as she passed him by.

"Do you? What day is it on your side of the world?" He laughed, and Luna found that though his voice was low and musical, there was something hollow to it, something dangerous.

She kept running.

"Your highness!" an elf cried, waving from a patch of flowers to her right. She was a younger elf, round-faced and smiling. "Sit with us!" She gestured to a basket heaped with fat grapes and braided bread, and an elven child rolled up out of the flowers, calling out in his native tongue. Luna shook her head and kept going. 

The flowers gave way to a cobbled street, which wound around pillars that suspended the elves' city, hanging above her in a network of colorful treehouses. Elves swung down on rope ladders, draped themselves over windows, and peered at her from the tree canopy, their voices merging like a chorus of birds. She longed to climb up one of the ladders, to duck into their bright houses and taste the spices hanging in the air, but she forced herself into a steady jog, ignoring their calls.

"Well." An elven woman slid down from a tree just before her, one hand on a silver rope. She had long black hair that framed her heart-shaped face, and her eyes were closed, long lashes fanning her cheeks. She wore a black lace dress with a fantastic collar that made Luna burn with envy, and she approached Luna with her arms outstretched.

"Look at you," she said. "You're the mirror image of your mother."

"I'm sorry," Luna panted, jogging by. "I can only stop for the queen."

Laughter rose from the trees around her, and the woman sighed. She flicked her hand, and Luna's feet lifted from the cobbles, holding her in place as she thrashed and wheeled in the air.

"Then you can stop now, my girl," said the woman. She twirled her finger, and Luna was turned to face her. "I am Gentiana, Queen of the Fair Folk."

"Oh!" Luna flushed pink. Laughter rose again, and she covered her mouth with both hands. "I apologize, your majesty. If you could... If you could put me down..."

Gentiana smiled, and Luna landed on the ground with a thump. She bowed quickly, and Gentiana sighed and flapped her hands.

"Yes, I know," she said. "I'm the most beautiful woman you've ever met, the pleasure is all yours..."

Luna wasn't about to say _that._ Oh, the queen was beautiful, certainly, but she didn't have her mother's muscular shoulders or the captain of the guard's mass of curly hair and flawless dark skin. But elves liked praise, so Luna smiled sheepishly and rose from her bow.

"I've come to honor the contract between our people," she said. "As my mother did before me."

Gentiana kept her eyes closed, but she walked towards Luna with confidence, looping an arm around hers. "Lovely," she said. "Walk with me, then, and tell me what you desire in exchange for our agreement."

Luna looked up at the queen as she was towed back the way she'd come, towards the field of ferns. "I... thought it would be the same agreement as always, your majesty."

"It would have been," the queen said. "But I cannot hold you to promises you may not be able to keep, and I have already done you one favor. Out of love for your mother," she added, with a faint smile, "who always made me laugh. So I will offer you what I can give. Friendship, and a boon. What would you ask of me, if you could have any gift in my power?"

Luna walked with her for a minute, mind racing. This had to be a test. All the usual wishes, like flying and invisibility and immortality, seemed impractical in the real world. What she needed was something substantial.

She thought of Noctis, sitting anxiously in his wheelchair at the head of the crowd. The supplicants who came to the castle because they couldn't afford the cost of a doctor, the funerals she saw marching through the streets. When she was young, she'd seen two men carrying a coffin smaller than she was, both of them grim and stiff as stone, and the sight of them had her waking from uncertain dreams for years.

"Healing," Luna said, at last. "If I were to have anything, I'd like to heal."

The queen frowned. "You could ask for power," she said. "Strength. A vault that never empties."

"Ye-es," Luna said, speaking slowly. "But money and power isn't more important than people."

"And yet you can save a great many of your people with both," the queen said. "Very well." She opened her eyes, and Luna froze, trapped by her cold, inhuman gaze. "And in return, I ask that you look after two of my more troublesome subjects. They are too fond of mortals for their own good, and will be my eyes to ensure that you are keeping to your promise."

"Of course," Luna said. "I mean, yes. I'll try."

"Good girl." Gentiana leaned down and kissed her forehead, and Luna gasped as warmth spread through her, raising the hairs at the back of her neck. Then Gentiana was pulling away, her eyes closed once more, and Luna was left feeling as though the world were pitching around her, unsteady on its axis. 

"Now go," Gentiana said. "I've kept you long enough. You will have missed the worst of it, by now. My subjects will meet you at the border."

"The worst of it?" Luna asked.

"Go," the Queen said, and flicked her hand. Luna spun, pushed forward as though by an icy wind, and stumbled off into the flowers.

The walk back was slow, with Luna's legs protesting as she pushed through the thick ferns, and the lights that hovered there spun around her hands and bobbed in the growing dark. Night fell quickly over the fields, far too fast for Luna's liking, and she was nearly at the line of elms when she heard excitable barking in the distance. A dog bounced out of the ferns, then another, bouncing in and out of view as they galloped towards her, and Luna braced herself for impact just as they collided, yipping and smiling and wagging their entire bodies in unadulterated joy.

"You must be the queen's subjects?" she said, and the grey and white dog at her left barked, showing off a delicate silver collar. She peered down at it and read the name aloud.

"Umbra," she said, and jumped as the white dog pushed Umbra out of the way. "And Pryna. Well, I hope Mother doesn't mind. Are you dogs all the time?"

Pryna opened her--yes, Luna realized, she was a _her_ \--mouth in a doggy smile and turned to race for the border. Luna and Umbra both sighed, and Luna smiled at her new companion. 

"Let's go, then," she said, and they walked through the trees, into the grey sky of an early morning.

Umbra and Pryna slowed down as they walked through the trees of Tenebrae, and Luna's boots sounded impossibly loud on the forest floor. She could just see the manor ahead of her, its wide lawns swept clean, and wondered why no one was there to greet her. Most of the time, the crowd would hold a vigil, waiting patiently for the crown princess to return--There were pictures of her mother at her age, drowning in flower garlands and surrounded by indistinct faces. 

"Umbra," she said, in a voice that rang through the silent wood. "How long was I away?"

Umbra glanced at her, and his liquid eyes seemed to search her face. Pryna whined, and Luna looked up to find a dark figure at the edge of the woods, head tilted to one side.

"Oh, thank the gods," Luna said. "She must have set guards to watch for me." She picked up the pace, jogging towards the figure, who stayed stock still against the rising dawn. She was almost upon them when she caught the unfamiliar gleam of their uniform, and light slid across a green mask fitted over eyes red as fire.

The figure jerked to life, and Luna skidded to a stop in the ferns as they lurched towards her, limbs swinging like a scarecrow brought to life. Pryna growled low in her throat, and the figure answered with a hoarse cry, like the sound of a kettle being poured over a fire.

"Run!" Luna shouted, and the woods around her shuddered as more figures appeared from behind the trees, eyes glowing like falling stars. "Umbra, Pryna, _run!_ "

The fey dogs took off through the trees, weaving and bobbing, and Luna followed them on her sore, aching legs. Branches crashed as the creatures in the green masks lunged and stumbled and jerked their way towards her, and her breath came out sharp and hot, pulse beating in her ears. She burst into the open, running for the door of the manor, and tripped as she saw the burned-out pit that had once been the grand entrance. The stained-glass windows were shattered, jagged holes marked the walls, and there were great patches of dead earth where her sylleblossom garden used to be. Luna moaned low in her throat, stumbling over rotting wood on the steps to the entrance, and pushed through the gap just in time to see Pryna and Umbra leap into the air, disappearing with a flick of their tails. 

Hands clutched Luna's shoulders, and her scream echoed in the thick air of the ruin of her family home. She wrenched against the grip on her arms, searching for signs of her mother and Ravus, for Noct, for the steward, but she was dragged into the open again, shrieking and clawing at her captors, heels scraping the stone.

A dark shape stepped in front of her, and pain bloomed on her cheek. A man stood over her, holding his hand as though it stung him, his drooping jowls twisted in a scowl.

"That's enough," he said. He wore the uniform of the empire, white and gold and red, and there were medals hanging from his shoulder that glinted as he adjusted his footing. "I can't abide hysterics. Lunafreya Nox Fleuret, I presume?"

"You know of me," Luna said, swallowing around the rising bile in her throat. "I can't say I've heard of _you._ "

He struck her again, and she tasted blood on her tongue as he shook out his hand. "You're late," he said. "You've kept me waiting nearly a week."

Luna bit down an acerbic remark. She hoped Umbra and Pryna were alright. She hoped they hadn't been taken by the... the things in the masks. She hoped her family had escaped whatever happened there. She hoped--

"Pay attention," the man said, snapping his fingers.

Luna _hated_ him. 

"Where's my brother?" she asked. "My mother? Prince Noctis?"

The man's brows twitched together. "The prince and his father slunk off to their city," he said, and spat on the ground. "Your brother is experiencing Niflheim's hospitality, just like you will, soon enough."

"And my mother," Luna said. She thought of the elf in the woods, smiling sadly at her. _Poor motherless thing._ "Where is the queen?"

"Dead," the man said, gesturing sharply to the creatures holding her. They rattled to life, lifting her off her feet, and she lashed out, kicking weakly at the man's knees. "Put down for defying the will of the emperor." He smiled, cold and mirthless, and leaned in close. "Take care, your highness, that you do not join her."


	2. Chapter 2

A sharp wind cut through the streets of Gralea as Luna, shivering in her white nightgown and heavy boots, was pulled down from General Caligo Ulldor's carriage and marched into the emperor's keep. The keep was an ugly thing, low and squat and belching smoke into the overcast sky, and the snow that fell in Luna's hair was grey as ash. She smudged a spot of it on her gown as she was walked through low-roofed hallways and over narrow, dizzying metal bridges, and even though her breath steamed in the frozen air, the scarecrow soldiers who held her didn't seem to breathe at all. She wondered what would happen if she tore off their masks. What lived under that ill-fitting armor, lurching and shambling, their grip so loose and fumbling on her arms? 

"Finally," Caligo said, mopping his forehead with the back of his hand. They were standing just outside a wide, circular room on a raised platform, which overlooked a spiraling stair that wound around the outer floors of the keep, sinking into darkness. Caligo lay a stone on a plinth in front of the room, and a door slid open on its own, revealing a small crowd of people dressed in the uniform of the empire. 

In the center of it all, his hands clenched on the arms of his chair, sat the emperor Iedolas Aldercapt, the man who ordered the death of Luna's mother.

Fury very nearly choked her. Luna glanced at Caligo. There was a knife strapped to his thigh, jagged and ceremonial, but any knife would do with enough force behind it. Luna took a step forward, straining against the scarecrows holding her, and jerked to a halt as a man darted between her and Caligo, blocking her path.

"Oh, no," he said. "That's far enough."

Luna blinked up at him. He was an older man, about her mother's age, with dark red hair and the kind of clothes that would have looked right at home in Elfland, all buckles and belts and clashing prints. He smiled at her, then, taking care to angle his back to the rest of the room, raised a finger to his lips.

"We don't need Besithia's dolls _here_ , of all places," he said, and made a sign with his hand. "Go wait outside like good little puppets. Forgive them," he said to Luna, as the scarecrows released her, stumbling out of the room. "They're quite mindless. I trust your trip was terrible?"

"Chancellor," the emperor said, in a hoarse voice. "If you would spare us the melodrama."

"I wouldn't dream of it, your radiance," the chancellor said. He winked at Luna and turned aside, strolling back into the crowd. 

"Come here, child," the emperor said. 

Luna stood where she was. She could feel the eyes of the crowd fixed on her, taking in her dirty boots, her smudged gown, the wilting sylleblossoms in her hair. She looked at the emperor and braced her feet on the cold metal floor, arms locked behind her back.

"Child," the emperor said. "I will not ask again."

"You will address me," Luna said, and the stillness of the room stretched as every member of the emperor's court held their breath, "as Her Majesty Lunafreya Nox Fleuret, Ninety-eighth of her line and rightful Queen of Tenebrae."

The emperor sat up, eyes narrowing, as the crowd let out a horrible gasp of breath. They whispered together in a great buzzing chorus, but Luna kept her gaze on the emperor, refusing to look away.

"Caligo," the emperor said at last. "If you please."

Caligo grabbed Luna's braid in a heavy fist, and Luna's boots squealed on the floor as she was dragged forward. She grabbed her hair to try and lessen the pain in her scalp, but by the time she could get a proper grip, it was too late. She was dumped in front of the emperor's throne with a yank, stumbling to her knees. When she tried to rise, Caligo pushed down on her shoulder.

"I see no queen before me," the emperor said, blinking his pale, watery eyes. "I see an orphan child, and an unruly one at that, in sore need of a guiding hand. Your brother proved resistant as well, but I don't blame you. You are a circumstance of your birth. They say the whores of Tenebrae consort with the demons at their borders: Which goblin sired you?”

It was obvious bait, and crudely done, but there was a light in the emperor’s eyes that wasn’t simple cruelty. He _believed_ it. She thought of the scarecrows outside, of the fact that his attack took place on the day of her run through the woods, of the way his seat looked like golden, interlocking branches; A human mockery of a faerie throne. Boys at court used to bully Ravus and Luna for being fatherless, trying to piece their heritage together by Ravus’ strange eyes and high cheekbones, but they never truly believed what they said. No one would be foolish enough to court one of the folk. 

“I’m afraid you’re incorrect, sir,” Luna said. Caligo’s hand pressed on her shoulder, and she pretended not to notice. “I’m not an orphan. I _have_ seen my father, and I wouldn’t call him a demon.” The emperor’s eyes widened, and Luna forced a laugh, high and fey. “You never wondered why the crown princess goes home when she gains her title?”

The emperor swung his pale gaze to the chancellor, who was leaning against a pillar with a full glass of wine. “Is this true?”

“My grandfather saw a few princesses, in his time,” the chancellor said. He winked at her, and Luna frowned. “From a distance.”

The emperor drew back, regarding Luna again, and there was a hunger in his eyes, almost worse than the cold, distant irritation from before. "I hope," he said, "that you will learn to trust me enough to speak of this man. We do not have the fey-touched in our midst often. In time, you may even look upon me as a surrogate father, a proper father, one who will teach you to behave like a proper, civilized child.”

Luna forced another laugh. 

The emperor drummed his fingers on the throne. "I can prove to be kind," he said, "if you please me. As I will be kind to your people, child, should you prove a dutiful daughter. Take her to her brother," he said, sitting back. "And let us hope that she can prove herself worthy of our care."

Luna was pulled to her feet by a younger soldier with dusty blond hair, who gripped her tight by the collar as he pulled her around. She caught a glimpse of the chancellor again as she was hauled out of the emperor's presence, and was surprised to find the man's brows lowered in something like concern, lips pinched tight. She didn't have time to wonder what that could mean, however, as her new jailer proved too talkative by half, babbling away as he led her through the maze of the keep.

"You have a list of rules you'll need to follow," he said, as Luna rushed to keep up with his long, lanky strides. "And chores, of course. The emperor likes to keep his servants busy. I'm not your handler, thank the gods--the chancellor's already volunteered for that. Probably wants a personal errand girl. Here we are. You have ten minutes, and then you aren't my problem anymore."

Luna staggered into a small, windowless room, simply furnished with a cot and a stack of rumpled uniforms, and a heater in the corner that rattled and hissed but didn’t so much as melt the frost on the pipes above it. The boy sitting on the cot twisted round, and Luna got one look at Ravus’ astonished face before she was wrapped in his arms, her toes lifted off the ground.

“Luna.” Ravus’ voice was a croak. “I thought the folk kept you safe. I thought you were free of this.”

“You know I’d find you anyways,” Luna said, and Ravus’ hands trembled on her back. “Oh, Ravus. I heard about Mother.”

“She was trying to protect me,” Ravus said. “She got... got between us, and I...”

Luna held on tight, but Ravus didn’t cry or shake like he used to. He just stood there, breathing hard, and with every sharp, indrawn breath, she could feel him retreating just a little more into himself.

“Don’t let them know,” he said, and Luna blinked. “Don’t let them see they affect you.”

“Too late for that,” Luna said, and he gingerly set her down. She ran a hand over his cheeks, but they were dry, and his face was hard and cold. “Ravus.”

“Don’t look at me like that,” Ravus whispered.

“Ah, I can see _this_ is the start of a _lovely_ foray into terrible coping mechanisms,” drawled a voice behind them. Ravus stiffened, and Luna turned to find the chancellor leaning against the door. He smiled. “Time’s up. I have the dubious honor of escorting you to your room.”

“If you harm her,” Ravus said, and Luna shoved a hand over his mouth. 

“Oh, yes, can’t you tell that I’m itching to torment a child?” the chancellor said. “How perceptive you are. Back away, there you go.”

“Don’t let them beat you,” Luna whispered, and Ravus let out a sharp bark of a laugh. “I’ll get us out. I swear.” She kissed him on the cheek, and Ravus stepped back, already sinking into that new, impenetrable mask. “I’m ready,” Luna said to the chancellor.

“Not yet.” The chancellor held out an arm, and she took it, stepping into the hallway as the door to Ravus’ room slammed shut. The lock turned on its own, and she wondered how long he’d been sitting there, alone, with nothing but his grief for company.

“We can stay together,” she said. “Ravus and I.”

“That will go over well, I’m sure,” the chancellor said. His stride was long, and he favored his right leg, which meant Luna had to take two steps for every one of his. “I doubt his radiance the emperor will approve.”

They took a lift down through the keep, and Luna tried not to press herself close to the chancellor’s side as they went rattling and jerking down floor after floor, metal groaning around them like a dying beast. They stopped at last in a small hallway so narrow that the chancellor looked like a giant, sidling sideways while Luna pattered on behind him. 

“Servant’s halls,” he said, his voice booming in the empty corridor. “Not many servants left these days, of course, what with the emperor’s newest inventions, but his puppets aren’t the most dextrous, so someone needs to do the cooking and cleaning. This way.”

He opened a door to a small, fully-stocked kitchen, complete with a pantry, a stone oven just like the ones the cooks favored at home, and a rickety bed propped up by the fireplace. Luna eyed the baskets of preserved fruit by the sink, but the chancellor stopped her with a look.

“They’ll have someone in to do inventory,” he said, “so you’ll have to be careful. The emperor starts his days around five… He left a set of instructions by the bed. Now.” He turned and shut the door, and Luna realized, far too late, that the convenient rack of knives above the cabinets was kept just too high for her to reach. She backed up a step, knocking into the bed, but the chancellor just dropped to a knee on the stained floor. He brushed his hair from his eyes and took off his ridiculous hat, holding it to his chest. 

“You know, we haven't exactly been formally introduced,” he said, and his voice lowered, no longer his usual light, mocking drawl. “Your Majesty Lunafreya Nox Fleuret, Ninety-eighth of her line and rightful Queen of Tenebrae, my name is Ardyn Lucis Caelum, brother of His Majesty Somnus Lucis Caelum, and blessed by the Queen of the Bright Court.”

He smiled, and his golden eyes seemed to glow, lit by an internal fire. “I believe,” he said, “we may have that in common.”


End file.
